


just look, don't touch

by ohhotlamb



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Office, Crushes, Dick Pics, M/M, Misunderstandings, Suggestive Themes, idk they talk about boners but nothing ever actually happens lol, one day ill write bokuro porn, today is not that day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 08:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12578212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohhotlamb/pseuds/ohhotlamb
Summary: “You know why I called you in here?”“Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.”There’s a long silence, and Kuroo dares to look up again—just as Bokuto sets a bottle of wine down on his desk beside the two glasses. His face crumples. “Accidentally?”





	just look, don't touch

**Author's Note:**

> based off that one tumblr post that i can't find so if you know what i'm talkin about pls send me the link so that i can share it here!!

“You know why I called you in here?”

Kuroo’s hands are sweating. And not just a mild dampness, oh no. Full-on, dripping at the fingertips,  _sweat._ It’s absolutely disgusting. He swallows, wiping his palms on his thighs. He can’t seem to make eye contact, so he settles for staring intently at the various objects on his boss’s desk – a name plate declaring it to be the property of one “Bokuto Koutaro”, a small collection of troll dolls with neon-green hair, a Newton’s Cradle, two crystal wine glasses (empty – for decoration?), a telephone, and several framed photographs that are facing away from him. He feels a little bit like a dog that’s been caught red-handed tearing into a roll of toilet paper. Chastised, and guilty, except he doesn’t think a dog’s ever been fired from his corporate office job for having a bit too much fun with bathroom tissue.

And he  _knows_ he’s about to experience just that. Getting fired, that is.

He also knows _why_ he’s going to be let go on such a lovely Friday afternoon. He’d been dreading it all day, anxiously waiting for his computer to  _ping_ with the e-mail that would sentence him to his doom. It had come, as he feared, a few hours after lunch and a few hours before he could escape and stew in his self-loathing. He had thus trudged his way down the hall to Bokuto’s office, knocked on the door, and here he was. Currently staring his humiliation dead in the face (once he can manage a quick glance), and those bright golden eyes are staring right back at him with an intense focus, revulsion undeniably lying in wait underneath the surface.

Their stare-down is interrupted after a moment of Kuroo’s throat working thickly over the words that refuse to leave his mouth. Bokuto has glanced away, slightly bent over to reach under his desk and rummage around for something (Kuroo’s formal dismissal, no doubt.) It leaves an opening, and gives Kuroo the burst of courage he needs to speak.

_You know why I called you in here?_

“Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.”

There’s a long silence, and Kuroo dares to look up again—just as Bokuto sets a bottle of wine down on his desk beside the two glasses. His face crumples. “Accidentally?”

Kuroo stares, bewildered. His jaw flaps uselessly for a moment, and he lets out an uneasy laugh. “Uh, yeah? I mean…it would be super unprofessional if I sent my boss pictures of my junk?”

Bokuto lets out a long breath, leaning back in his chair and raking fingers through his hair. He nods, looking up at the ceiling. “Shit, that makes sense. Why didn’t I think of that, it  _makes sense.”_

“Uh, sir?”

He shakes his head, twisting his swivel-chair around to face the massive window behind him. Of what little Kuroo can see of the back of his neck, it’s bright pink. “Please don’t look at me right now.”  

There’s a possibility he’s being the butt of a very cruel and unfunny practical joke right now, but he thinks that there’s an even greater possibility that the events that unfolded last night were interpreted differently than he expected. And if he’s reading this situation right – the bottle of pinot noir, and the vivid color spreading across Bokuto's skin – well. Maybe his palms should be sweating for an entirely different reason.

He swallows, hesitantly edging closer to the desk. “Permission to speak freely?”

Bokuto waves his hand airily, slinking down in his seat until not even his gravity-defying hair is visible over the top. Only his grumbling voice assures Kuroo that he hasn’t made an escape through a trapdoor in the floor. “I’m your boss, not your drill sergeant. Say whatever you damn want, whatever it is it’s not gonna make me feel worse than  _this—“_

“A few weeks ago I had the hottest wet dream about you. I woke up in the middle of the night with jizz in my pants and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since.”

The chair whirls around so fast that Kuroo actually jumps a few centimeters off the ground. Bokuto’s eyes are so round that he, not for the first time, looks like a bona fide nocturnal bird of prey. “Go on,” he says, the eagerness in his voice tangible.

Kuroo bites his lip, feeling warmth heat his cheeks and stir something in his belly. “Last night I was trying to…ah… _curb my appetite,_ so to speak. With a little help from ol’ rightie here, if you catch my drift.”

Bokuto hasn’t blinked. “You were jackin’ off.”

“Yeah.” Kuroo lets out a hard breath, his heart absolutely pounding. The hunger in Bokuto’s eyes is contagious, and suddenly he’s feeling the same things he felt last night in the quiet of his apartment— desperation, lust, and that same insatiable  _hunger_. “Betcha can’t guess who I was thinking about the whole time.”

“Me,” Bokuto breathes.

Kuroo nods. “You.”

“What about the picture?”

He sounds utterly breathless just sitting there, stock still—Kuroo has to swallow dryly, remembering endless fantasies…and the one idiotic move that turned all of them into a singular nightmare. “Basically…ah, shit, this is really,  _really_ embarrassing, but what happened is that all the blood from my brain went, uh,  _down under_ , and I took the picture and kinda thought to myself, “ha ha, what if I actually sent this to him? LOL no way I’m not  _suicidal”_ and then I spilled hot soup all over my dick and in my agony I accidentally pressed the send button.”

And just like that, the palpable lust in the room is sucked from the air, right into Bokuto’s lungs, and replaced with the loudest laugh Kuroo has ever heard _._ Head thrown back, fingers clutched onto the chair’s armrests for dear life, booming like a firework—and Kuroo swears that he can  _see_ the colors he can hear in his ears.

“That’s the funniest shit I’ve  _ever heard,”_ Bokuto wheezes. His grin is blinding, and Kuroo feels himself smiling in response. The crush he’s nurtured these past few months cumulates in this moment, and the desire he feels now has nothing to do with the unsubtle twitching in his pants. He thinks about watching Bokuto from afar any chance he got, ogling him during work meetings, exchanging witty conversation at the water cooler. He remembers the warm glow in his chest after being able to make his boss laugh, and the tugging from his ribs when he left the office late at night, the low lamp in Bokuto’s office still lit behind him.

He feels himself sag, relief mixed with longing. “So I’m not fired?”

“ _Fired?_ Dude, I didn’t hire your cute ass so that I could fire you a month later,” Bokuto manages though gasps for air, genuine tears in his eyes.

He can’t let himself hope like this. He wants more than flirting, and he knows that’s one thing he won’t be getting. He tears his eyes away, already turning himself away towards the door. “So, uh, can I be excused? Sorry about the…misunderstanding. And for sending you my nudes, which is, uh. Still pretty bad considering we’re not, like,  _dating_ or anything.” His teeth bite viciously into his bottom lip, eyes pinched shut briefly because  _why, oh why Tetsurou, why couldn’t you have just left it at that you thirsty little asshole?_

Bokuto considers him, half of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “Well, I think that’s something that we could fix pretty damn easy.” He stands, pushing back his chair, and prowls around his desk like an honest-to-god panther. Kuroo, despite being quite the cat himself, takes a half-step back.

“…sir?”

Bokuto groans, now close enough to touch. “Don’t call me sir, man. When  _you_ say it—" he shakes his head, again showing those brilliant teeth. “Makes me think all kinds of things that I shouldn’t.”

Kuroo doesn’t realize his back’s pressed to the wall until Bokuto’s arm is propped against it, beside Kuroo’s head. Trapping him in. His lips part, and he doesn’t miss how the luminous eyes dart down to catch the movement.

“Relationships between coworkers are against company policy,” Kuroo mumbles, without any real feeling. He feels himself melt, eyelashes lowering, when one of Bokuto’s hands finds the side of his face, a thumb tracing his bottom lip.

“Good thing we’re not coworkers then,” Bokuto murmurs. His eyes gleam. “Sometimes being the big boss around here has its perks. I'll pick you up at seven.”

And then his lips replace his thumb, and Kuroo silently cancels all his plans for the weekend.

All except one.

**Author's Note:**

> Not my best work tbh but I haven’t written anything in like a solid month and I needed to get back into the swing of things, I really really missed it but ive just been so busy and tired and unmotivated. Hope this was enough to put a smile on your face! :^) THANKS FOR READING! Oh and Happy Halloween!!!! 
> 
> ohhotlamb.tumblr.com


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